Litigator in Trouble
by Sini
Summary: Alan Shore has a problem and he seeks the help of one Greg House. House/Boston Legal crossover.
1. He Has Money

Hello all! Here's a little crossover fic. I have no knowledge of medicine, so I've reduced the medical talk to a minimum… Sorry for any mistakes in that or any other area. Please let me know what you think :)

**Summary:** Alan Shore has a problem and he seeks the help of one Greg House. House/Boston Legal crossover. Takes place right after S3 of House and Boston Legal.

**Spoilers:** House: Seasons 1-3, BL: Seasons 1-3

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything.

**Litigator in Trouble**

** Chapter 1: He Has Money**

Doctor House was sitting behind his desk, casually twirling a pen between his fingers. He expected Cuddy to come waltzing in at any moment. He currently had no staff and could hear Cuddy's voice yapping in his head. God, would she ever shut up? He was not interested in getting a new team. Having Foreman, Chase and Cameron around was an exception. Now that they were gone he was quite content to go about his business as he did before the trio took over his office.

Were those Cuddy's heels clicking on the floor? House let out a ridiculously loud sigh and propped his feet up on the desk. This was so not jolly. She had paid him a visit once a day since he had been relieved of his duty of having to watch over others.

"Get a team," she had told, or yelled at him, every single day. He had just got rid of one. Why on Earth would he want a new one? There was enough trouble without any extra personnel just waiting to cause more. That was what they were designed for, was it not? To create trouble, wreak havoc?

The clicking sound grew louder and House frowned, still fiddling with the pen. He had been avoiding Cuddy successfully, only having to rely on Wilson's help once. Wilson had tried to reprimand him, but after a quick remark about Jimmy being jealous of the attention Cuddy was giving House, House had left the room. Wilson had merely rolled his eyes and fixed his retreating back with a tiresome look.

As House finished his train of thought Cuddy appeared in his peripheral vision. A few seconds later she stood in front of him holding a stack of files. Without warning the pile fell in front of his face, taking down his pen in the process, and spread across the desk.

"You are constitutionally the most stubborn physician in the world, but rest assured, you will hire a new team."

House lifted his eyes off the folders of evil.

"I won't, but thanks for making a mess on my table so I don't have to clear the previous clutter now buried under it. Not allowed to touch any administrative files."

"Read. Interview. Pick. Hire. Now."

"Don't need a team…"

"It's not your decision to make."

"No, it's merely my work environment and happiness on the line."

If possible, Cuddy looked even more unimpressed than a few seconds ago.

"You have done absolutely nothing recently, except ogle my breasts."

"Are you saying your bosom counts for nothing?"

Cuddy tapped his finger on the topmost file.

"Your time is limited. Get to it."

With that, she swiftly left his office.

House fished out his pen and turned his attention to it, lulling himself into his thoughts. He honestly did not relish the idea of a new team and quite frankly enjoyed the solitude. There were a few substantial perks in having servants: more time to spend on tormenting Cuddy, annoying the hell out of Wilson and not having to work as much. The downside was everything else that came with having a team: the screw-ups, questioning and stupid ideas. He would have to remodel another batch of people.

House snapped out of his reverie when his door flew open. His eyes assessed the new arrival - definitely not applying for the alleged position. In fact, everything about him yelled 'lawyer'. Who was suing him this time, and for what?

The man walked up to his desk and placed his briefcase on the edge of it.

"Doctor House, my name is Alan Shore and I suffer from a number of conditions, the first and foremost being my tendency to black out and collapse on the floor at the most inopportune times. I also have a terrible case of word salad."

--

It was almost as if Cuddy was having a stare-down with House. He had in no way implied he would like to take this case. To him there was no mystery, the man simply suffered from anxiety induced spells. There was absolutely nothing any other competent, or incompetent, doctor could not handle.

"Find out if there is more to his condition."

"Someone else can do it just as well as I can."

"You are the only one with nothing to do. It's either this or you start picking out new team members."

House felt uncomfortable under her demands. He was about to state his claim when Alan walked in wearing a dull coloured hospital garment.

"Might I possibly interrupt you for a minute," he quipped and sauntered forward, "I have excellent reasons for why you should treat me."

Cuddy glanced expectantly at House, offering a defiant look. Alan took another few steps.

"I have money. Lots of it."

Alan fixed both House and Cuddy with an expectant stare.

"So?" he continued. "Oh, do you need more reasons? In my experience, money is all it takes."

House tilted his head to the side, the lawyer had a point. Cuddy knew the hospital could use the financial aid. She also knew that making friends with Alan might prove useful in the future, knowing House and his medical escapades. She had read of him in the paper and knew what the Crane, Poole & Schmidt employee was capable of. It could not hurt being allied with him.

"Doctor House will take your case."

House glared. Cuddy ignored him.

"Wonderful!" Alan praised, taking hold of Cuddy's hand.

"You can expect a sizeable reward once my little problem has been dealt with."

Cuddy smiled and threw a smug look over her shoulder at House.

"It's been a pleasure," added Alan.

"Oh no, the pleasure is all Doctor House's," Cuddy concluded and gave Alan's hand a firm shake.


	2. Do You Have Mad Cow Too?

Since at least a few people showed interest in this fic, here's the continuation. Thank you! :)

**Disclaimer on chapter one.**

--

**Chapter 2: Do You Have Mad Cow Too?**

Denny frowned as he tried to figure his friend out. Alan had just failed to arrive at work the previous morning. There had been a note on his desk, which had not been found until several hours had already passed. It had simply said: _"Had to go see a doctor. Hope to be back soon, unless I'm dead."_ The note had not made anyone feel better about finding out where he was. Brad might have been alright with it.

Now Denny was standing next to Alan's bed, watching him lie there, obviously uncomfortable.

"Why no telling?"

"There wasn't much to tell, which is the exact reason for me being here."

Denny squinted.

"Why are you doing that?"

"To see better. Maybe then I'll understand what you're going on about... I think you may have some democrat disease."

Alan frowned. "I don't think there is such a thing as a 'democrat disease'," he said, not letting Denny's comment slide. At least he hadn't changed. Alan had anticipated Denny would find him sooner or later and did not particularly mind it. What friends are for and so forth.

"So, what's wrong with you then? You're not dead yet… Do you have mad cow too?" Denny asked, eyeing Alan suspiciously.

"They don't know yet, but apparently Doctor House has put his white board to good use. Shouldn't be long, they say."

"They?"

"The lovely nurses."

Denny squinted again. Alan was being his secretive self, but usually shared these sort of things with him.

"Is this because of Shirley? Because you can't have her."

Alan rolled his eyes in frustration and laughed.

"No, Denny… This isn't about Shirley, although I'm not going to let the issue drop."

"I'm not letting you have her, even if you're dying."

"Even if it was my last wish?"

"Even then," Denny concluded, "but I'd bring you Shirley Schmidtho."

With a raise of his eyebrows, Alan sighed.

"But you're not telling me what's wrong."

"Because I don't know what's wrong."

"Fine, I'll wait until you know," Denny declared. "So, did you see the Dean of Medicine? Woman of authority… She's right up your alley."

"Somehow I don't think that would be appropriate at the moment, but I won't deny the thought has crossed my mind."

"Well, whatever you have can't be that bad since you can still chase women... albeit in your mind," Denny muttered.

Alan steered his eyes off his friend and let his body go limp, his head sinking into the pillow.

"Let's hope that's the case."

--

A bit short, I know, but the term is coming to an end and all the fuss (essays...) with it. Thanks for reading :)


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